Chapter 62
The reign of One of Many, née Annika Hansen; Queen of Borg.
Year 01, Month 12, Day 10, Hour 11, Minute 18.
Seven looked at the two Borg drones behind the force field. One of them, the man, was banging against the electronic barrier despite the pain this must cause. Both of them were insisting loudly that they should be let out, that the prisoners had escaped and locked them in instead.
"Have you looked at the room around you?" Seven asked. "Admirals Hendricks and T'Lara, this is our version of a secure negotiating room, though we have no need for weapons and gas emitters built into the walls. The floor, ceiling, and walls are lined with the same force-field as the one that is preventing you from reaching this part of the room, just that we have covered those by a thin shielding system so that you can walk around and lean against walls without it hurting."
Once again the result was a protest of innocence.
"Plus," Seven continued, "You made some vast mistakes. First of all Borg drones do not pound the force field. Instead they use an internal communicator to call for backup. Second, you made the mistake of copying drones that are still permanently linked to the Hive. They do not show your kind of behavior. In fact, they do not make a single move that is not governed by the Hive. If they had truly been captured, and had not been able to contact the Hive to let them know that they cannot perform their job, then they would have merely stood still until they would be retrieved or they would finally get a message over Borg link. In other words, you would actually be incapable of moving and talking right now."
Seven hesitated for a moment as she connected to the Hive. "Plus I notice that you were not able to remove the two drones you copied. The real drones 8,463 of 5,674,347, and 94 of 3,394, are at the moment working on deck 591. No doubt doing the job that they were heading for when you saw them walking by."
Seven sat down at the table that protruded into the part where the prisoners were now located. She knew from observation reports that the prisoners had tried to move the table, without success. This was of course because what looked like a simple, if thick table, was actually a piece of advanced technology that was an integrated part of the force field wall in the middle of the room.
"Please sit down," Seven offered as B'Elanna took position beside her while Pagsha and Katzi decided to stand. Seven placed a PADD that she had been carrying on the table and pushed it towards the prisoners. To their amazement it simply slid through the force field.
"Constable Odo was so kind to give us translated pieces of your language. From that your language has been analyzed by our computer. That information should be readable by you. Please feel free to talk in your native language. There is a universal translator in here, and with your language already being added in text, it should only take a few words to find the pattern to translate your speech as well."
The PADD had been caught by the woman, but it had not yet been looked at. Seven was curious why beings that could take on any form they wanted, within certain limits, nevertheless tended to stick to one gender. Female changelings could depict themselves as men, yet they preferred to take the places of women. The same with male changelings. She knew that it was a question to be asked at another time. Maybe it was something in their DNA. Just because they had decoded the changeling's DNA code, didn't mean that they understood it all... yet.
"That is a decoding of your DNA, which we obtained while you were stored in our transporter pattern buffer." Seven noticed that now their eyes went to the screen. "It is quite impressive I must say. Longer than the DNA code of any species in the Collective, save one. The Siill DNA is about twenty times as complex as yours, and a multitude of that compared to Humans. Your DNA data proved interesting reading to some of our scientists. Constable Odo already asked for a copy; we declined reluctantly."
"Why?" The woman said.
"I assume that you were Admiral T'Lara?" Seven asked.
"I was," the woman agreed before shifting back to the form of the Vulcan. Clearly the man objected to that. She ignored him and asked again. "Why did you decline?"
"Because we feel that he might feel obliged to hand a copy to Starfleet as well. We believe in the overall good intentions of Starfleet, but that does not mean that there are not a few individuals in their midst that hold grudges and see chances, while not realizing that they are chances they should never use. For instance, look at the PADD."
They did so and saw that the information changed without them even touching the device. "That Borg link you talked about?" T'Lara asked as on screen one part of the DNA was selected and zoomed in on.
"Indeed," Seven agreed. "While we did not research your entire DNA yet, now that it is decoded that is merely a matter of time. This is the most interesting part our scientists have found so far. See those three base pairs?"
T'Lara nodded.
"Those are the part of your DNA that controls your shape shifting ability. Observe." A rendering of electronic devices came into the screen.
"Those represent some of our nanoprobes that have been especially adapted for DNA modifications," Seven explained. "Their scale to your DNA is not correct, but this way you can observe the process."
The little machines started to work, started to make changes to the DNA. Once finished, Seven explained. "Like this you would no longer have the ability to change. You would be a solid, like you prefer to call Humanoids."
She had shocked them, she could clearly see. It was one thing to fear that someday someone might try tampering with your DNA. It was an entirely different thing to see that someone had, and already knew how to take away the essence of that what made you a changeling.
"Observe," Seven said again. The nanoprobes started to work once more. Parts of the DNA were shifted around, at one point it almost looked like two parts were welded together. "Not a correct representation of the actual work," Seven explained. "However, it is very effective in getting across what happens."
"So?" T'Lara asked once the nanoprobes moved from the screen.
"That leaves you still able to shape shift. However, it removed your need for rest. At the moment you have to return to fluidic form at certain intervals or else you die. Like that this would not be needed. With those changes you can keep every form you want for an indefinite amount of time, limited only by your natural lifespan. Or you can shape shift. It does not restrict that ability."
Again they were clearly shocked. The man, Hendricks for now, Seven decided, lifted the PADD with shaking hands and merely looked at the screen.
"So you can change one strand of DNA," T'Lara finally said. "But that doesn't mean,"
"Surely you can think further than that," B'Elanna interrupted. "Imagine millions of those nanoprobes in your body. You saw how quick the change was made, and that wasn't even real time; it was slowed down so that you could see what's happening. I guess that it would take about two or three hours to change every single cell in a body of, say your size."
"So what's this, the carrot and the stick?" T'Lara asked. "Isn't that what you people call it? Do as you say and we get a present from you, but if we don't do as you say you will condemn us to a fate worse than death."
"Not as such, we basically just wanted to see if you're really as stupid as you portrayed those admirals to be," B'Elanna said bluntly. "So pretend that you're smart for a moment and now guess. Why would we show you that we can remove your need for being in a fluidic stage for a certain time?"
"I would say that my guess was pretty much right on," T'Lara persisted.
B'Elanna sighed. "Look, pretend for a minute that we aren't out to destroy you all. In fact, you've seen the forces we have with us, and that's just for a start. Do you really want us to go and visit your Homeworld to see if we can find someone else to talk to there?"
"We do not blame you for trying to involve us in a conflict with the Federation," Seven pointed out. "In fact, we compliment you on your initiative. We understand that you are at war and that you should try every advantage you can get; it is your duty. Please, do not push us to the 'or else' area. First impressions are hard to conquer later on."
"I think we already said enough," Hendricks, who still looked like a Borg drone, said. Which prompted T'Lara to speak up again.
Seven knew this behavior, she had seen it often enough in meetings with representatives from species. It was a battle between the people in charge, and the people that realized that stubborn old-fashioned thinking was the last thing that was needed at the moment. Seven guessed that Hendricks was actually considered the senior of the two, since the changelings didn't have real ranks between themselves. They had... seniority.
"Just for the sake of argument," T'Lara said immediately after Hendricks had spoken up. "It's not hard to guess that we would welcome the fact of not having to return to a fluidic stage, as long as we don't have to give up the actual ability of being able to do it. This so that we can still participate in the great link. So offering us the ability to achieve that would be a good show of good faith. Along that line, showing us that you can prevent us from shape shifting ever again, and then assuring us that you won't hand that information to our enemy, would then also show that you have nothing but the best intentions."
"While at the same time still reminding us that you can hurt us much more than Starfleet ever could," Hendricks added, for the first time also admitting that he was also a changeling, even though he still looked like a drone.
"And that," T'Lara agreed.
"I cannot blame you for being suspicious. It is also part of your genes, we found out," Seven said. "You cannot but suspect that someone wants to hurt you. It was an interesting thing to find out, and it explains much about you. But tell me, how can you come out of this with your head held high if you are not even willing to say 'I am listening' when faced with the fact that this conflict is over? For let there be no mistake about that. This conflict 'is' over. The only question now is how it is going to end for you. I would prefer that it would end with the Dominion being in charge of the territory that it controlled before this conflict began. However, if your side is not willing to listen to reason then I will react. For as long as needed. Even if that means that we have to destroy your planet and hunt down every Founder alive to make sure that they will not be so for much longer. This conflict 'is' over. Tell me, how do you want it to end?"
"Or more to the point," B'Elanna added, "How do you want the undisputable outcome to play out? Do you want to still be in control of your territory... mostly. Or do you want to be... well, no more actually."
"We can't talk for our people," T'Lara pointed out. "We have certain people that are our representatives."
"They are not here now," Seven reminded. "While you cannot make choices for all of your people, you can listen to us and then show them what you saw when you link with them after we release you."
T'Lara tapped the PADD. "I want to see if this is real, or if this is nothing more than a nice cartoon."
B'Elanna spread her hands a little in a 'sure, no problem' gesture. "Who wants to go first?" Then she smirked. "Of course, we'll make sure that the changes will not be passed on to others when joining in the link. We'll make sure that your cells can only be changed one on one by our nanoprobes."
"We're not stupid," Hendricks spoke up. "You just showed that you can make it so that we can't change anymore. Do you really think that we'll let you mess with us willingly and then go and link and infest the others? No, we'll not work along with your plan. We may not be able to stop you from doing things to us, but at least we'll know and we'll not link with others."
T'Lara looked at Hendricks for a moment before slowly standing up. She changed once again. She kept most of T'Lara's features, but angles of the face became more flowing. Her hair clearly became part of her body, and her coloring, including her clothes changed to the orange brown that was so characteristic of the Founders, if they weren't mimicking anyone.
"I want to see if you can do as you say. If you can truly change whether we can shape shift, then you already have a weapon in your position that we don't want to face. My name is Shyra, and I am your volunteer."
"And which one do you want?" B'Elanna asked. "The change that stops you from changing, or the one that removed the need for a rest stage?"
Shyra merely looked at her.
"Just checking," B'Elanna grinned.
Changelings didn't like it when others had the upper hand, so she decided to surprise them. "I want to check both actually... but I would prefer it if the change that removed the need for a rest stage is done last."
"If you do this none of us want anything to do with you anymore," Hendricks said as he stood up and moved away from her.
"Then so be it," Shyra said, now even more determined. "But at least I will be able to tell you for sure if they can truly change our DNA. Unlike others, I am not a coward."
~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~
The reign of One of Many, née Annika Hansen; Queen of Borg.
Year 01, Month 12, Day 19, Hour 09, Minute 30.
The Klingon Chancellor Gowron sat in his Chancellor's throne, overlooking the audience room of the Chancellor's palace on Qo'noS. He felt a definite twinkle of... anticipation, since Klingons would never be nervous. He was flanked by two standing men. General Martok on one side, and Worf, Martok's second in command, was standing on the other side of the throne.
"Are you sure about this?" Gowron asked while looking at Worf. "You've dealt with the Borg a few times while serving on that Federation ship. I'm surprised that you aren't urging us to take the war to them."
Worf bristled at the comment. "That's the point. I've seen them up close. Shoot one and he just keeps walking. Cut an arm off and he uses the second one to fight you. You might be able to kill one or two, but there are one or two thousand standing right behind him to take his place. And that's before. Now they have species 8472 working for them. I reported about them to you earlier. Believe me, I wasn't kidding then. One of those ships is capable of taking out every single ship in our fleet, and they have thousands of them. And on top of that it seems that they vastly improved their shields. As I told you over subspace when I was heading here, hundreds of Federations ships, including the Defiant and the Enterprise, did less damage to those shields than a hand phaser does to one of our ships' shields."
He shook his head. "Today is not a good day to die. Especially when they aren't here looking for a war. Let us wait with fighting until they give us a reason to."
Gowron snorted. "You act like we can trust them, just because the message they sent said that they came with good intentions."
"I never met their Queen," Worf said thoughtfully. "But I've met their second in command, their Princess, several times. A Klingon Human hybrid that takes things like Honor very seriously. I would strongly suggest treating them as equals if not even superiors, and we might even get out of this with the glory of the Klingon Empire being enhanced."
"We'll see," Gowron said slowly.
A soft gong sounded, letting them know that their guests had entered the building. There had been a small debate before about just who would welcome them at the palace's door. Reluctantly Worf and Martok had agreed with Gowron that it could not be one of them because that would give an impression of cowering to the superior force. And Klingons did not cower.
Not long later the door of the audience room opened and the Speaker of the High council entered. He had been the one selected for the job of welcoming the Borg party. His title sounded impressive enough to probably appease the guests, while at the same time it was unimportant enough to not look too eager to the Klingon people. After all, when all was said and done the Speaker was merely the person that took the minutes of meetings where people talked whenever they wanted. It was the Speaker's job to then bring all that was said, shouted, and boasted, into something of an order in a document that could then be read at least with some coherency in it.
He looked flushed, Gowron noted. And he was hurrying. The Speaker never hurried, except for when taking minutes.
"Ah, um, Chancellor I um, eh," The Speaker stopped when his words were starting to be drowned out by the sound of marching in the great corridor that led to the chamber they were in. Being a Klingon, Gowron had heard many marching groups. But this sounded different somehow. The rhythm was there and so precise that one could count the steps of the group. Yet there was something of an extra beat to it, as if three steps were made in the time normally used for two.
The Speaker had only opened one of the big wooden doors. They were heavy enough for even Klingons not to bother with opening the second door unless ceremonies were being held. But now the second door was pushed open not too softly. There was enough force behind the push to let the door open all the way and even bounce back from the wall a little.
Gowron sat up straight when he saw what had opened the door. A group of huge three-legged creatures entered the chamber while surrounding what looked like a Human woman that was so small that she only measured half the size of the creatures. No, Gowron couldn't help but notice, not Human. Facial and body features were just that little bit off for being a Human. The twenty three-legged creatures fanned out across the room, ignoring the Klingons while taking up strategic positions. Doors and windows were covered. As were the places mirroring those locations on the other walls. This way the creatures standing there had a clear line of sight through the windows and doors if they would be opened.
Gowron noticed that there was still the sound of marching in the corridor, and a few seconds after the first group a second entered. Once more twenty of the big creatures, accompanied by an almost Human looking woman. She was a head bigger than the first woman, but still dwarfed by the huge creatures that had to duck their heads to enter through the door. Again strategic positions were covered. But since the most important places were already taken care of, this group took position beside the creatures of the first group.
They kept coming until five of the groups had entered. Then there was a change and two women entered, who were clearly guarded by the four other people that were forming a square around them. After them, following the square of guards came two more women. This time it was clear to see that neither of the women outside the square was Human. Gowron blinked his eyes for a moment. Yes, one of them, the dark blue haired one, even had a tail. This group came closer until they were standing at a respectable distance from the Chancellor. Clearly someone had informed them about what was considered too close or too far and thereby would show disrespect.
Gowron wanted to make a comment about the creatures lining the walls, but was stopped by the sound of more marching in the hall. Once more five of those teams entered. By now, with over two hundred people lining the walls there was not much room left. But the hall was big enough for them to stand side by side. Finally the sound of marching died down and two of the creatures of the last group closed the door after the Speak quickly moved out, and took position in front of it. He looked at the creatures lining the walls, occasionally speckled with a woman standing between them... all of them were women he noticed.
In fact, since he had no idea what gender the creatures were, there were only two people of whom it was clear that they were men, and those were part of the square of four people that was still surrounding the two women that were clearly the main focus of this exhibition. For he was sure that it was exactly that; an exhibition. Those people standing against the walls didn't seem to be carrying weapons, which was a statement all by itself. They didn't carry weapons because they didn't need them.
The four guards in front of him had weapons though; each was carrying a different kind. His eyes came to rest on the tall woman who clearly preferred blades. She had a long knife, or short sword, tied to each leg. Gowron even saw the hilt of some kind of sword peeking over her shoulder.
Apart from that the only other person that was carrying any weapons... or at least any weapons he could see... was the half Klingon standing in front of him. She too had two knives strapped to her legs, but he dismissed those as nothing more than decoration. They looked way too fancy to ever be any real use in a fight.
Not wanting the Klingons to get the wrong idea, Seven spoke up. "My greetings to you. I am One of Many, née Annika Hansen; Queen of Borg; Seven to friend and enemy. I apologize for the excess amount of guards. However, I know how important weapons are to Klingons .So it was either increase my guard detail, or have all Klingons I might get into contact with disarmed. And I mean all weapons, including the d'k tahg."
She saw three hands travel to the ceremonial blades. "You do not need to say 'over my dead body', since we know that this would be the reaction of any honorable Klingon. And since dead bodies is what we want to prevent, we opted to increase our guard detail instead."
"You sound like you don't trust us," Gowron growled.
"It is an interesting thing," Seven said thoughtfully. "You know what I have discovered in my negotiations with different species? That the more they say 'you can trust us', the less we actually can. I know that the Klingons are an honorable species. But honor can also bring unwanted effects, like some challenging someone to a fight because that person felt insulted by a simple comment. Like a Targ being the ugliest thing that ever lived. I believe that was the last trivial case we saw on your news broadcasts before we became the news."
Gowron stood up and moved closer. "Challenges are a part of Klingon tradition."
"Which has, and I am sure will for a long time to come, served the Klingon Empire well," Seven countered.
Worf, having spent most of his life with Humans heard the important part in that sentence; for a long time to come. The Borg Queen was telling them from the beginning that they were not expecting the Klingons to give up their way of life merely because the Borg had showed up.
Gowron on the other hand was unfortunately used to Humans that like to speak sentences with double meanings because they were sure that the Klingons were too stupid to understand the insult in apparent compliments. "Then maybe we can settle these negotiations with a challenge? See who's side will have the upper hand in the coming conversations?"
Seven lifted an eyebrow in amusement. "Are you implying that you want to challenge me to a battle? I can assure you, that would be extremely unwise of you."
Gowron waved a hand at the ATSD teams standing against the walls. "Why? Because you have a couple hundred guards surrounding us? They would not be allowed to interfere in a challenge fight."
Seven shook her head a little. "Wrong. You see, I am the Queen of Borg. Even if I wanted to answer a challenge, they would not allow it. My security is paramount for them. They will protect me, even if I do not want that protection. These guards surrounding us would interfere and not care in the least about Klingon Honor. However, that is not the reason why you might want to rethink challenging me. The reason is because since I cannot fight myself, you would be facing my Champion."
Seven stopped for a moment as Katzi stepped forward to stand at her side. "Allow me to introduce. This is Katzi of Erdania Village; my Champion."
Gowron looked up and into the eyes of the imposing woman. In the back of his mind he realized that it was actually the first time as far as he could remember that he had to look up to look into the eyes of a woman. Despite being clad in a black uniform, he could clearly see the bulk of muscles playing under the fabric with every move the woman made. Gowron had expected a sneer or a growl, something imitating. But she merely stood there looking down on him... and looked all the more imposing because of that. He realized that it was not her two meter tall and very broad frame that made her imposing. No, it was the very same thing that made those guards against the walls all the more imposing because they weren't carrying weapons. This woman didn't need to try and look even more intimidating than she already was, simply because she was absolutely certain that she was the best, period.
B'Elanna spoke into the silence that had fallen as Katzi and Gowron stood looking at each other. "Before you bring up the dishonor of having to fight a guard, let me point out that besides being guard, and besides being my Mate's champion, she's also family. She is considered a mother to our daughter."
Katzi pulled one of the machetes out of its sheath. She flipped the blade into the air a couple of times, always catching the handle again without even looking at it. "I understand that Klingons prefer bladed weapons. Would this do? Or do your prefer unarmed combat?" Katzi asked casually as she caught the deadly blade once more with an ease as if she wasn't even trying. "Your choice." She shrugged, catching the blade again while doing so. "I'm easy that way."
Gowron knew that a true warrior never showed his, or her, full ability even before the battle started. You always wanted an unknown advantage. If the woman... no, warrior... if the warrior was showing off her prowess with the short blade, Gowron was sure that he didn't want to face her when she switched to the long blade clasped to her back.
Luckily the words of the half Klingon had given him an out. "A mother to your daughter?" He smirked before turning and moving away while making a dismissive hand gesture. "Far be it for me to break up a happy family with a premature death of a daughter's mother."
He moved back to his throne and sat down. "I would suggest moving to the side hall so that you can sit down, but I don't think you would agree because your security detail wouldn't fit." He used a finger to make a circle in the air to indicate the room and the Siill warriors that were lining the walls. "So how about I have a table and some chairs brought in here instead?"
After Seven had nodded her agreement, Gowron used his communicator to give the orders. Then he introduced General Martok. "He is the Commander of the Klingon armed forces." Then he indicated Worf. "And this is Worf, his second in command."
"We have met," B'Elanna pointed out. "I'm Two of Many, née B'Elanna Torres; Princess of Borg. B'Elanna for short."
She made a small waving gesture behind her, and the two women that had been outside the guard's square stepped closer. "This is Pagsha Yahif, Royal advisor, Mate to Katzi and also a family member."
"Another mother to your daughter?" Martok asked amused. "Just how many mothers does your daughter have?"
"Four direct ones, and billions of indirect ones," B'Elanna deadpanned. Then she smirked before indicating the other woman. "And this is Anidan Dubinak, Chief Engineer on Unimatrix 01."
"What, no mother to your daughter?" Gowron couldn't help but ask, even though he knew that the four mothers had already been mentioned. At least he assumed that the blonde Queen was the second part of 'our' when the half Klingon had talked about 'our daughter'.
"She is one of those billions of indirect mothers," Seven pointed out. "She does see our daughter a lot though, since she is a close family friend who we love to spend time with."
"And why are you bringing an Engineer along to these meetings?" Martok asked. "Besides her being a friend of course. But I think that if that were the only criteria needed, then this hall would be more crowded than it is now."
"You are correct," Seven agreed while the door opened and a few Klingons brought in a table and some chairs.
Seven hid her amusement when seeing that each and every one of them suddenly got a whole different body language, once seeing what was lining the walls of the hall. Where before they were clearly annoyed, to say the least, to be proud Klingons that were stuck with such a mundane task like carrying a table or chair, only one look around the room made them suddenly be very glad that they were only delivering a table or chair and then could leave again.
"However," Seven continued as she sat down at the now placed table. "We have discovered that the Borg are generally more technologically advanced than other species we have contact with. As a result of that talks tend to drift to technological talk quite quickly. So when we are having a friendly meeting, we simply have Anidan join us because she is our technological expert."
"In friendly meetings?" Gowron asked as he sat down as well. Normally nobody sat down before the Chancellor, but he decided not to comment on that. He had a feeling that the Queen of Borg knew this and had set down before him deliberately. Either to see if he would challenge again instead of wanting to talk, or to remind him that even though they were on Qo'noS, she as Borg Queen wielded a lot more power and therefore had the right to sit down before the Chancellor. Gowron had a feeling that he didn't want to challenge her on either point.
"So you think this will be a friendly meeting?"
"I am hoping it will be," Seven agreed. "Though Klingon society is far from perfect, we see a big potential in it. We believe that the Klingon Empire will be capable of extraordinary achievements once they overcome internal struggles, House feuds, and class discrimination. If even in peace time the Klingon Empire would show some of that unity that until now only war times hinted that they can have. In short, we want to help the Klingon Empire to grow from a blossom to a bloom."
"For such a technologically advanced species, you sure seem to rely on your guards a lot," Worf pointed out. "We could have smuggled a bomb in with this table."
"And kill yourself in the process, Worf?" B'Elanna asked amused.
"We might have decided that today is a good day to die. Kill you, and all of your guards here. That would be a good price for our lives."
"That's one thing where the Klingons and the Borg differ tremendously," Anidan spoke up for the first time. "Even though Klingons have cloaking technology, you prefer for security to show. If you take guards along you want them to impress. As Seven pointed out in the beginning, these guards are only here because we didn't want to force you to give up all your weapons. Especially those where you would rather die before giving them up. But don't think that this is all the security we have."
She knocked on the wooden table. "Take this thing. Solid wood, weighs 62.8 kilos. It's made of Granik wood that was cut down over three hundred years ago. Oh, and there's a wood maggot living in this leg here, at the bottom of the leg. You might want to look into that. Since this table is so old, the maggot must have come from an infected source of fresh wood."
Now she knocked on the leg at her side of the table to indicate the table leg in question. Then she explained. "You've seen the size of our ship. Hell, it's a bright day out, if you go out now and look up you can even see it outlined against your sun. We have a lot of room up there to pack a lot of powerful scanners. And if you really want to know, the closest thing you can find around here that can be used as some kind of explosive is your red granulated mustard in the kitchen. Though that explosion would only be strong enough to cover us all in mustard."
"Anidan can be quite direct," B'Elanna said amused. "It's one of the reasons we love her. I think she'll appeal to your Klingon directness; you'll like her. So how about we stop the pissing contest and start talking?"
Gowron hesitated for a moment. Then he smirked and nodded. He slapped the table forcefully before folding his arms and leaning forward a little onto his elbows. "Alright, enough pissing for now, let's talk."
Continued...